Hunted Again
by Ciya
Summary: Sam and Dean are going to pay for getting Gordon arrested in Indiana.
1. Chapter 1

_Well Season 2 is over, Sam is alive, the YED is dead and Dean is in deep shit, again. What a ride._

_This story is set a month or so after AHBL - Part 1 & 2._

**Hunted Again**

Sam and Dean trudged down the rocky, muddy road shivering in their wet clothes as the rain fell heavily on them. Dean carrying the heavy duffel bag of weapons had already slipped and fallen three times, Sam with his lighter backpack had fallen only twice. "Who's idea was it to exorcise a vengeful spirit from a cabin in the middle of freakin' nowhere?" complained Dean wiping the water off his face. He shined his flashlight up and watched the rain fall through the trees with a disgusted look on his face before shining the light back onto the ground.

"Yours," Sam replied, "you promised Michaela and Michael that we would take care of it before they went on their honeymoon next week." He pushed his long bangs off his face only to have the heavy rain push them back down. "I told you heavy rains and possibly snow were predicted this week but you insisted." He had turned to talk to his brother and missed the sudden dip in the road, "whoa!" he fell heavily on his hands and knees, dropping his flashlight.

Dean slid to a stop and helped Sam to stand up. "You alright Sammy?"

Sam clenched his eyes shut and held onto Dean's shoulder when his knee flared in pain. "Shit, my left knee." Dean shined his flashlight on Sam's knee looking for blood and gently probed it to see if the kneecap was broken. "Ow! Dean!"

"Well I don't think it's broken Sammy." He flashed the light along the ground where Sam had fallen and picked up Sam's flashlight. "You probably hit that rock," he said shining the light on a chunk of quartz. "How are your hands?"

"Cuts and scrapes," replied Sam wiping the mud off his hands and onto his jeans.

"Can you walk?" He handed Sam the flashlight.

He gingerly put weight on his leg and took a small step. "It hurts like hell but yeah I can walk." Sam slowly limped down the road followed closely by his brother. "Dude if you slip you're going to take me down with you. Would you please back off a bit?"

Glaring at his brother, Dean stepped to the side. He surreptitiously kept an eye on Sam. He still hadn't recovered from watching his little brother die in his arms and he knew that the knife wound still gave Sam painful twinges in his back from time to time. Even though the yellow-eyed demon was dead he was worried that it was possible another demon might take its place, drawn to Sammy's shining.

Sam sensed Dean watching him again. It drove him nuts but he knew his brother wasn't going to stop anytime soon. He had died and Dean had went and made that stupid deal with that damn crossroads demon to bring him back, Sam really couldn't blame him for doing it although he tried. He wanted to blame it on Dean's impulsive and all consuming desire to 'keep Sammy safe' but he'd come to the realization that he probably would have done the same thing if their roles had been reversed. But one freakin' year? What in the hell had Dean done to the demon in Mississippi to get him such a shitty deal?

Even though they were both lost in thought the brothers somehow managed to make it down to the bottom of the road where the Impala was parked without falling down again. "Baby you are a sight for sore eyes," Dean said to his beloved car while running his hand over the side before unlocking and opening the trunk.

"Dean it's been a whole 12 hours," Sam pointed out limping to the back of the car.

Dean took Sam's backpack and flashlight he then handed him an old blanket. "And your point is?" he asked while grabbing a blanket for himself. "Don't get mud on her seats Sammy."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Or else I'm cleaning it out tomorrow morning with a toothbrush," he replied standing at the passenger side door.

"You've got that right Francis," grinned Dean opening his door, spreading his blanket over the seat and getting in.

Sam knocked on the window, "Dean anytime now. I'm not getting any drier out here." Dean leant over and unlocked the door. Sam heard Dean grunt while he spread the blanket on the seat. "I'm not getting mud on the upholst…" Sam started to say before looking over at his brother. "Dean?" Dean's head was leaning against the driver's side window and he wasn't moving. He grabbed Dean's shoulder and shook him. "Dean!" Sam saw a drop of blood run down his brother's neck and was leaning over for a better look when he felt cold metal pressed against the back of his neck. He slowly turned around when he heard a gun cock and looked straight down the muzzle of a 9mm.

"Hey Sammy."

"Gordon."

"Long time, no see Sammy. Heard you and Dean got pinched by the Arkansas police," grinned Gordon keeping his gun in Sam's face.

Sam stared at the man in the backseat. "What did you do to Dean?" he demanded.

"Oh just put him asleep for awhile. Didn't want him to butt into our conversation." Gordon slid over to the passenger side door, "get out of the car Sammy, slowly. Try anything and I will shoot Dean." Sam opened the door and stood out in the rain. Gordon rolled down his window and got out. "Put your left hand through the window." After Sam had complied Gordon held out a set of handcuffs. "Put these on."

"And if I refuse?"

"I'll shoot Dean, gut you and take the car." Sam glared at Gordon before clasping the cuff around his left wrist. "Okay now your right but keep the car frame between them. I want you cuffed to the car." Sam snorted but complied and held out his hands when Gordon checked the tightness of the cuffs. Gordon patted Sam on the cheek, "good boy." Gordon walked around the back of the car to the front, opened the driver's door and grabbed the keys out of the ignition. He went back to the trunk, opened it and grabbed the duffel bags out and tossed them onto the backseat.

"What are you doing Gordon?" Sam twisted his wrists futilely feeling along the inside edge of the roof for anything to use to pick the locks on the cuffs.

"Just making some room Sammy."

"It's Sam, asshole," he growled watching Gordon walk back over to Dean, haul him out of the car and dump him into the trunk. "What are you doing to my brother?" Sam ducked down trying to see through the space between the open trunk and the back window. Frustrated, he yelled, "Gordon answer me damnit!" Gordon slammed the trunk closed and walked over to Sam. Gordon looked Sam over before suddenly smacking him in the head with the gun. Sam grunted and sagged to the wet ground. Gordon unlocked the cuffs, pulled Sam's arms behind his back and relocked them. He pulled him up and shoved him into the car, slamming the door shut before Sam could recover enough to try to kick him. Gordon got into the car and pushed Sam up into a sitting position. Between the pain in his head and knee and the twingeing in his back Sam really wanted to pass out but was afraid of what Gordon might do to him or Dean while they were unconscious, so he settled for leaning his head back against the seat and glaring at the man driving his brother's car. "What in the hell do you want Gordon?"

"Oh, just some quality time with my two favorite Winchesters," he replied grinning again. Gordon patted him on the knee, "sit back and enjoy the ride Sammy."


	2. Chapter 2

_Kripke and Company, I'm still waiting for Dean or Sam to get stuffed into the Impala's trunk, wink…wink…nudge…nudge._

**Hunted Again - Chapter 2**

Dean groaned and tried to roll over but found there was no room to move. He cracked his eyes open and didn't see anything, "Sam," he said weakly. When his brother didn't answer him Dean attempted to sit up and discovered that his hands were bound behind him. "Shit!" He struggled to free his hands when his world jolted and he painfully bounced up and down. "_What the hell?_" he thought. "Sam!" As he shifted around in the confined space trying to figure out what was going on, he noticed the smells of car exhaust, gun oil and dirty socks. "_The trunk!_" Dean grimaced in pain as his head hit the side of the trunk when the car dropped into what felt like the world's largest pothole. Desperate to know what happened to his little brother Dean kicked the back of the trunk hoping to hear something, anything back letting him know that Sam was at least alive, but Hope was a pissy Goddess and he heard no answering sounds.

_snsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsn_

"Dean," Sam called out, startled out of a light doze when the car rocked through a deep pothole in the road. He started to push himself up from the slouch he had fallen into as exhaustion had taken over when his banged up knee decided to reminded him of its presence, "ouch…freakin' hell!" The muffled street sounds in his dream turned out to be banging coming from the rear of the car. He pushed himself up with his good leg and turned around in his seat, "Dean! Can you hear me?"

"No, but I sure can. Shut up and sit down," Gordon snarled at him. "Was my topic of conversation that boring Sammy? I'm sure we could find more things to talk about when we get to our destination."

"Where are we going…exactly?" Sam asked watching as a sign reading '_Northern Bitterroot Range - Quartz Benchmark 155 miles_' went by.

"Oh, somewhere quiet and secluded. Where we can have a nice long talk about what the demons are planning."

"I don't know what they are planning Gordon," Sam yelled glaring at his captor, "no matter how many times you insist you will get the same answer, I…DON'T…KNOW!!"

"We'll see Sammy, we'll see." Gordon turned onto a hidden side road and slowly drove down an overgrown road that was barely wide enough for the Impala to get through.

Sam muttered under his breath, "it's Sam, you stupid son of a bitch."

Gordon reached over and backhanded Sam. "That's my Mama you're talking about."

His cheek stinging Sam glared at Gordon, "that certainly explains alot," he looked outside for a minute and then back at Gordon, "who else but a **bitch** would have you for a son?" Gordon hit the brakes and threw the gear shift into Park, the Impala slid on the muddy road stopping just short of running into a small grove of aspens. He pulled Sam from where he had fallen against the dashboard and punched him in the jaw knocking him back against the passenger side door. Sam took the advantage of the situation by bringing his legs up and kicking Gordon in the chest, knocking him into the driver's side door, Sam then frantically tried to get his door open. Coughing, Gordon shoved Sam's feet aside and lunged at him. Sam again kicked him in the chest but this time Gordon grabbed ahold of Sam's left leg and twisted it hard. Sam screamed as the pain in his knee flared to red hot. Gordon climbed over Sam's body and pressed his arm into Sam's neck, trapping him against the door and cutting off his oxygen.

"Do that again Winchester and I will kill you were you lay and leave your brother to die of dehydration in the trunk," Gordon whispered dangerously as he continued to choke Sam. "Do you understand me?" Sam gasped desperately for air, he struggled against Gordon to no avail and started to see black spots. He wasn't sure what Gordon had said but he nodded anyway hoping that he would let up on his throat so he could breathe. Gordon pushed himself back up and shoved Sam's legs onto the floor. Sam coughed as he laid awkwardly on the floor boards and pushed himself partially up on the seat, he could hear muffled banging and yelling coming from the trunk. "_Dean_." Gordon shifted the Impala back into gear and drove down the road.

_snsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsn_

Dean stopped kicking the back of the trunk when he thought he heard his name over the rumble of the Impala's engine. When the sound wasn't repeated he thought that he was probably hearing things. Dean decided that from here on out he was going to stash several boxes of paperclips through out his car because he was completely sick and tired of being handcuffed with no way to escape. He felt the car slow down and turn, presumably onto another road, which from the scratching he could hear wasn't very wide. "Damnit I'm going to kill whoever is scratching up my car!" he yelled. He wriggled around to start kicking the trunk again when the car stopped suddenly and he was thrown back hard against the trunk, bruising his shoulder. "Who the hell is driving my car?" He jumped when he heard a scream. "Oh shit," Dean knew that scream, the last time he heard it a teenaged Sam had ended up in the ICU for a week. "Leave my brother alone you bastard! SAMMMMY!" he kicked the trunk hard. "SAM!"

Dean had gotten up to number 42 on his '_Things To Do To The Person Who Made My Little Brother Scream_' list when the Impala stopped and the engine turned off. He heard the squeaking of the car doors and Dean maneuvered himself around so he could kick out. The trunk opened and before he could stop himself he had kicked his brother in the stomach, knocking him down. Dean looked to his right when he heard laughter.

Gordon laughed while lowering his gun, "you're just so damn predictable Dean," he said shaking his head. He turned and looked down at Sam sprawled on the wet ground, "how are you doing down there Sammy?" Sam lifted his head off the ground and squinted his eyes before laying his head back down again and coughed a couple of times. "Well Sammy was going to help you out of there but it looks like you now have to do that yourself." Dean squirmed around and managed to get his legs hanging out of the trunk but he was having a hard time getting his butt over the lip of the trunk. "Come on Dean get the lead out. You call yourself a Hunter but you can't get your ass out the trunk? What would Daddy Winchester say to his little boy now huh?" Gordon stepped back and pointed his gun at Sam's leg. "How about this - you have 10 seconds to get out of that trunk or I pop little Sammy's left kneecap. Ten seconds after that if you still haven't planted your feet on the ground, pop goes his right kneecap." He smiled and started counting, "10...9..." click, "8...7...6...5...4...3..." Dean landed with a grunt on the muddy ground. Gordon carefully released the hammer of his gun, leaned down and mussed up Dean's hair. "I knew you had it in you Dean," he laughed, "now both of you get up." Dean managed to stand up but Sam had problems because of his injured knee. "Come on Sammy, big brother made it upright." Dean took a step towards his brother, "Dean," warned Gordon.

"I'm just going to help him up."

Gordon waved him over with his gun and watched as the brothers maneuvered themselves onto their feet. "Get moving guys." Dean and Sam turned and started slogging through the muddy yard in the direction Gordon had pointed.


	3. Chapter 3

_I stepped on a rusty nail yesterday, can you say ouch? I went in for a tetanus booster today, double ouch. Then I had an interesting reaction to the tetanus shot, can I go home now?_

_Anyways, the house I'm using in this story I saw when driving on County Road 323 between Hill City and Keystone. The house is creepy enough but there were chickens walking around in the driveway so that means somebody lives there, which is kind of…creepier. I wonder if their last name is Bender, hmmmm. (grin)_

**Hunted Again - Chapter 3**

"What did he do to you Sam?" Dean asked watching his brother grimace and hiss in pain as he put weight on his left leg.

"Dean…"

"I heard you scream Sammy and you can barely walk. What did that son of a bitch do to you?" Dean stepped in front of his brother and stopped. He looked Sam over, noticing a large bruise spreading out from under his bangs. "Sam."

"He twisted my knee." Dean turned towards Gordon who was watching the brothers with a big grin on his face. "Dean no…ouch, shit!" Sam said when he reached out to stop his brother and turned his knee the wrong way.

Gordon waved his gun at Dean, "keep moving boys." Dean glared at him before turning back to Sam and walking towards the house again.

Grumbling and shaking his head, Dean glanced up at the house they were walking towards. "Geez."

"What?" replied Sam.

"I swear Bonnie and Clyde should come running out of that house and hop into that truck."

Sam stopped and looked the house over. It was a square, two story 1930's style farmhouse. The metal roof was rusted and the wooden siding was rotted through and falling off in spots, the screens on the two downstairs windows were pushed out from the inside and the worn curtains were hanging outside, gently moving in the breeze. The two upstairs window screens were missing altogether along with several panes of glass. The screen door was hanging off its hinges and the front stoop was missing. A huge blooming lilac bush with a decaying dog house underneath had taken over the left hand side of the house and several pine trees on the right were threatening to topple over onto the house. A large shed could be seen off to the left which was partially caved in on top of a rusted, 1950's pickup truck. "Yeah well, if the Bitterroot's were in Texas I'd agree with you." Sam glanced around at the rock strewn, pine and aspen covered hills.

"Lovely piece of real estate you have here Gordie. I bet _Flip This House_ is just dying to get ahold of it."

Gordon laughed, "very funny Dean. Now how about you boys go on around back." As they rounded the overgrown lilac bush Dean turned suddenly and tackled Gordon. Dean got a couple of hits in with his elbows before Gordon punched him in the face and kicked him off. Sam joined in by kicking Gordon in the face, he next went to kick him in the stomach but Gordon reached out, grabbed Sam's leg and yanked it out from under him causing him to fall onto his back. Gordon rolled over, reached for his gun and was tackled by Dean, who had managed to get his handcuffed hands worked from his back to his front. They rolled back and forth, wrestling for control of the gun.

Sam dizzily rolled onto his side and watched them wrestle until he heard the gun fire and Dean jerk. "DEAN!"

Gordon pushed Dean off of him and stood up. Dean curled up into a small ball, clutching his right side and groaning through clenched teeth. Gordon, breathing heavily, pointed his gun at Sam, "do you want to add some lead to your diet also Sammy?" Sam shook his head and pushed himself over to Dean.

Sam rolled Dean onto his back, "Dean let me see, pull your shirts up." Dean pulled his shirts out of the way so Sam could see the deep groove along his rib cage. "You're lucky Dean it's only a scratch."

"Lucky? Aaaagh," grunted Dean when Sam used his elbow to push Dean's hands down on the wound, "if this is lucky in your world I'd hate to see unlucky." He breathed fast, pushing the pain away.

Sam grinned, looked over his shoulder and cocked his head at Gordon, "that's unlucky Dean."

Dean lifted his head, saw Gordon scowling at them and chuckled. He hissed when the pain flared up, "don't make me laugh Sam."

"Get up you two!" ordered Gordon, "try anything again and you will watch each other die, slowly and painfully."

The brothers helped each other to stand up, both hissing in pain. "Bitch," Dean said as Sam leaned on him.

"Jerk," Sam replied.

"Get moving." The brothers slowly walked down the side of the house and around to the back. Gordon gestured with his gun, "open the door Dean." Dean complied, he took a step inside just before being knocked down and landed on by Sam who had been shoved through the door.

Dean grunted in pain when he pushed Sam off of him and then glared at Gordon, "why in the hell did you do that for?"

"Payback's a bitch Dean," replied Gordon smiling. Dean helped Sam up while glancing around the vandalized room that had once been a kitchen. "Sammy why don't you sit down in this chair while big brother faces that wall over there."

"What? No," Sam replied glancing back and forth between Gordon and Dean.

Gordon pushed his gun into the side of Sam's head and cocked it, "I wont ask again," he said menacingly. Sam looked back at Dean, a silent barrage of signals ran between them before Sam sat down in the chair. He couldn't hide the small grimace of pain that ran across his face when he bent his injured knee. "If you move from that wall Dean, little brother's brains will be splattered across the cabinets. Understand?"

"Yes."

"Are you sure? Because I've noticed that you like to act first and not bother to ask questions later. So I'll repeat myself, do you understand what will happen to little Sammy if you move from that wall?"

"You'll kill him," it took most of Dean's self control to repeat the threat back to Gordon.

"Good, now I figured something out during my short stay with the Lafayette PD," Gordon said while cuffing Sam's wrists to a strong metal ring anchored into the back of the chair, "to control Dean Winchester," he cuffed Sam's ankles to the chair legs, "I must first control Sam Winchester and vice versa." Gordon ruffled Sam's hair when he stood up. "Comfy there Sammy?" Sam glared at him. "I know, I know 'it's Sam'," Gordon said snidely before bending down and looking Sam in the eye, "but I really must thank you for that little vacation you gave me back in Indiana," Gordon pulled a hypodermic from his pocket, pulled the cap off and slammed the needle hard into Sam's thigh. Sam jumped and yelped, squeezing his eyes shut from the burning sensation when Gordon pushed the plunger home and an unknown liquid entered his thigh. Feeling malicious Gordon snapped the needle off in his thigh before tossing the empty hypodermic aside. Sam started hyperventilating from the effects of the liquid and the burning pain in his thigh.

Dean clenched his hands together tightly when he heard Sam yelp and start breathing fast. He wanted to turn around and help his brother badly but he knew Gordon would carry through with his threat if he moved. He jumped slightly when Gordon grabbed him by the collar and spun him around. Dean's eyes went immediately to Sam, "what did you give him?" Sam's face was pale and slick with sweat. Gordon didn't answer and they both watched Sam's head fall forward as he passed out from lack of oxygen. "Sam!" Dean clenched Gordon's jacket in his hands pulling him towards him, "damnit Gordon, what did you give him?" his voice shook with fear.

"Oh, just a little something a friend of mine concocted to make exorcisms a little more…informative." Gordon grinned while pulling Dean over to a long, wooden table, "hop on up Deanie boy." He laughed as Dean glared at him while sitting down on the table. "Okay, now lay down and put your arms over your head."

"Sam isn't possessed," Dean pointed out swallowing back a pain filled groan when his bullet wound stretched and broke open, allowing blood to trickle down his side. Gordon unlocked the cuffs and Dean flinched when his wrists were tied tightly to the corners of the table. Dean glanced down at his unconscious brother as Gordon tied his ankles to the other corners so he was spread eagle out on the table. "What are you planning Gordon?"

"An information gathering session."

"What kind of information?" Dean had his suspicions but he wanted to be sure of the specifics. "Like should you mix Jaggermeister with Tequila? Or do female zombies make good girlfriends? Or," he thought for a second or two, "hey what about this - what happens when you mix black dog shit with holy water?"

Gordon shook his head, "you'll just have to wait for little Sammy to wake up." He laid out an assortment of knives, a pair of pliers and few other odds and ends on the counter.

Dean pulled at the ropes tied around his wrists and ankles finding them to have absolutely no give in them at all, "damnit," he whispered. Dean closed his eyes and sighed, "Gordon?"

"What?"

"What's with this 'little Sammy' crap? He's taller than both of us." Gordon just smiled and turned back to the counter.


	4. Chapter 4

_Something tells me that Gordon isn't going to make it on the Winchester's Christmas card list this year._

_FYI - in case you faint at the sight of blood don't read this chapter standing up, just a small hint by the way. Just so you are aware - Gordon likes to torture things…demons…vampires…Winchesters._

**Hunted Again - Chapter 4**

_-groan-_ "Sammy wake up." Sam lifted his head up and let it fall backwards, groaning again. "Come on Sam open your eyes." Dean sighed when Sam's head rolled and fell forwards. "Sam!" Frustrated Dean thwacked his head against the table top. "Gordon, I'm going to have to have a long talk with your chemist friend." Gordon walked over and smacked Sam in the head. "HEY!" Dean hollered pulling at his restraints. Sam groaned and lifted his head, his eyes barely open. "Sammy, hey." Sam's eyes slowly shifted in Dean's direction. "Hey kiddo. You with me?"

Sam's eyes slowly rolled around stopping when they caught sight of Dean again. "Whoa, pretty colors," his voice came out barely above a whisper.

Confused Dean replied, "pretty colors? Sam are you okay?"

Sam blinked and thought for a second, "head hurts…leg hurts." He cleared his throat and shifted on the chair. Gordon waved his hand in Sam's face. "Cool…do that again," smiled Sam goofily. Gordon bent down, grabbed his jaw and shined a penlight into Sam's dilated eyes, "dude not cool," Sam muttered squeezing his eyes shut and trying to jerk his head away.

"Open your eyes damnit," Gordon ordered squeezing Sam's jaw painfully.

"Stop…hurts," Sam whimpered while trying to jerk his head away from Gordon's grip.

"Leave him alone Gordon!" Dean yelled.

Gordon stood back up and backhanded Sam, then he grabbed Sam's hair and yanked his head back, "you listen to me Sammy. You will do as I say, when I say it. You will answer all my questions truthfully or I will slice big brother open from throat to crotch. Do I make myself clear?" Sam stared at him in fear.

Sam glanced over at Dean, blinking, he noticed for the first time that his brother was tied to the table. "Dean?" His head was jerked back again. "Huh? Uh…yes, c…clear." Gordon shoved Sam's head forward and walked over to the counter and picked up a wicked looking knife. Sam shook his head trying to clear away the fuzziness and the ringing in his ears, he blinked rapidly to get the distracting swirling colors to go away. It didn't help.

"Sam?" He looked over at Dean. "Are you okay?"

"No. My head's fuz…"

"Alright Sammy," Gordon said standing over Dean, the light flashing off his knife, "what are the demons' planning?"

Sam couldn't stop himself from answering, "a war."

"Already knew that. I also know that you psychics are going to be the soldiers in the coming war. So," he drew his knife across Dean's thigh slicing through his jeans and skin, Dean grimaced in pain, "what I need to know is," he moved the knife down about an inch and sliced Dean's thigh once more, "when and where is the war supposed to start and how are they planning to use you psychics?"

"I…they…he said…"

"Sam," warned Dean wincing as Gordon cut him for a third time, blood pooled under his saturated jeans.

"The gate…the war has already started." Sam shook his head, his thoughts were jumbled and hard to keep straight. "We don't know where."

"Gate? What gate Sammy?" Sam looked away. Gordon sliced across Dean's thigh a fourth time then moved over to his other thigh and started slicing again, Dean hissed as the knife went deep, blood welled up and ran down his thigh soaking into his jeans.

Sam pulled on the handcuffs, straining to get loose. "No."

Dean growled, "son of a bitch! I'm going to kill you Gordon!" Gordon cut Dean again.

"Sammy answer me! What gate?" he held the bloody knife aloft so Sam could see his brother's blood drip down.

"The gate…is…" Sam shook his head and let the swirling colors distract him, "_if I watch the colors then I wont answer Gordon,_" he thought as he let his eyes drift, concentrating on a strand of color as it moved around the room.

"Sam don't…AAAAHH!" he screamed when Gordon savagely punched his bullet wound. Dean squeezed his eyes shut and gasped for breath, he tried to curl up in a ball but with his wrists and ankles tied to the table that was impossible.

Dean's scream broke Sam's concentration. "DEAN!" Sam yelled as he watched Dean clench his teeth against the pain and gasp for breath, "no, no, no," he repeated quietly.

"I'll kill him Sammy," Gordon threatened, his eyes crazed, he pulled Dean's head back and placed his knife against Dean's jugular vein, "I'll cut his throat open."

"Sammy, no," Dean whispered. Gordon pushed the knife harder against his neck, a small drop of blood rolled down and dropped onto the table.

Sam didn't want to tell Gordon but he couldn't let him kill Dean. "The Dev…Devil's Gate in W...Wy…Wyoming. Jake opened it and let the demons out of…of Hell."

Gordon went over and stood in front of Sam, "Jake's what? A demon or a psychic like you?"

"I'm not a psychic," Sam said looking up at him.

"Where's Jake and how many demons got out?"

"Jake's dead. I killed the son of a bitch," Dean mumbled, "Sam shut the gate and we don't know how many demons got out." He wiped his eyes on his shoulder. "Now you know, so let us go."

"You're a poet and didn't even know it," Sam pointed out giggling. Dean lifted his and looked quizzically at his brother then back at Gordon before he started giggling too. Gordon glared at the brothers.

"Ah come on Gordon," said Dean, "it's a little funny." Dean stopped laughing when the pain increased in his side. Sam gasped when a sharp pain erupted behind his eyes. "Sam what's wrong?"

"Nnngh."

"It's the second stage Dean," replied Gordon smiling, "a headache from hell. You should be used to those Sammy. It isn't like you haven't experienced them before." Sam squinted up at him. "Visions Sammy," he said tapping the side of Sam's head. "You didn't answer my question. Was this Jake a demon or a psychic working for the Winchester family's very own Yellow-Eyed Demon?"

"Yellow-eyed demon? What yellow-eyed demon?" asked Dean who was getting light headed from blood loss.

"Dean, I know what your Dad had been hunting for 22 years." He slapped Sam on the shoulder, "so what does your Lord and Master want with you and the other psychics? Are you vessels for the released demons?" Gordon walked over to the counter, laid his bloody knife down and picked up the pliers. "Come on Sammy, the sooner you tell me everything the sooner all of this will be over," he said as he went back over to Dean.

"That yellow-eyed son of a bitch is not my Lord or Master dumbass," Sam yelled, "he killed my parents and my girlfriend. Why in the hell would I do anything for him?"

"I don't know Sammy, why would you?" Gordon asked reasonably as he picked up Dean's left hand, grabbed one of his fingernails with the pliers and yanked it off. Dean writhed and screamed in pain. Gordon went over and held the fingernail in Sam's face. He turned away but Gordon grabbed his hair and pulled his head back. "Ten seconds boy, you have ten seconds to answer my questions before I pull another nail. And if I don't believe you are being truthful, I will pull them all and then start on his other hand."

"Sam don't," Dean quietly pleaded, "he's going to kill you and turn me in to the cops once he gets his answers." He muttered to himself, "if he doesn't kill me first"

Sam sniffled, his eyes watering from the painful headache. "Dean my head…"

"Sammy I know but don't….AAAAAGH!" Screaming, Dean thwacked his head against the table over and over.

Gordon held up another fingernail, "your ten seconds are up boy. What's it going to be?"

"Jake wasn't a demon. He was an asshole who chose the wrong side."

Gordon cocked his head, "chose, huh?"

Sam squinched his eyes shut in pain. "Yeah."

Gordon grabbed another of Dean's fingers. "No, no, please no," Dean said over and over again while rolling his head back and forth.

"So Sammy, does Dean here know that you chose the wrong side too? Is that how you knew where to find Jake and the Devil's Gate?"

"I'm not working for any damn demon!" Sam yelled his face slick with sweat.

Gordon looked down at Dean's still form, "no sleeping on the job Dean," he said before he reached over to the counter and grabbed a bottle of water and another of alcohol. Gordon poured the water over Dean's face and slapped him until he came around. "Hey there Dean." He looked over at Sam, "so how did you know the location of the Devil's Gate?" Sam gave a quick shake of his head, he quickly wished he hadn't when he had to quickly swallow to push back the nausea rising in his throat. "Come on Sammy, we've been making great progress. Don't start holding back now." Shaking his head, Gordon uncapped the alcohol bottle and poured it on Dean's tortured fingers. Dean screamed, trying to escape the burning pain he yanked hard on the rope holding him to the table and snapped his left wrist.

Sam cringed and said quietly, "Ash."

Gordon put a hand over Dean's mouth to muffle his screams. "What?"

"Ash," Sam repeated hanging his head.

"Son of a bitch," Dean mumbled, tears rolling down his face, his fingers felt like they were on fire and his wrist sent shooting pains up his arm. Gordon removed his hand from Dean's mouth and poured some water on his fingers. Dean hissed when the water hit his open wounds but then relaxed a bit when the water cooled off the fire caused by the alcohol.

"Ash, huh." Gordon sorted through the weapons on the counter. "You know Ash is dead along with everyone else in the Roadhouse when it burned down?" Sam didn't reply. "Sammy, are you expecting me to believe that Ash was working with the yellow-eyed demon?" Still not getting a reply he walked over to Sam and lifted his head. "Damnit." He held Sam's head back, pried open an eyelid and flashed his penlight into Sam's eye and repeated the procedure on the other eye. "Shit."

"What's wrong with Sam," Dean asked tiredly.

"Third stage."

"What's 'third stage'?"

"Don't know, demons have never made it past the second stage," replied Gordon. He went over to the counter and packed up his equipment.

"WHAT?" Dean lifted his head to see his brother, "Sam! Sam! Damnit Gordon if you killed him…"

"You'll what? Kill me? He'll be fine, more or less, the drug wasn't meant to kill just make it easier to get truthful answers." Gordon opened a door on the far wall then went over to Dean and cut the ropes tied to his ankles then the ones tied to his wrists. "Just remember Dean, you try anything and I'll shoot your brother." Dean cried out and his legs buckled when his feet hit the ground. "Come on Dean, walk," Gordon ordered as he dragged his weighty burden over to the open door.

"What's in there?"

"You'll find out soon enough," he replied shoving Dean through the doorway. Dean yelled out as the floor beneath his feet disappeared and he landed hard onto the packed earth floor. "By the way Dean, I'm calling the FBI and letting them know your location and the location of your brother's body. Who you, of course, murdered," Gordon laughed while shutting and locking the door.

"Sam," Dean groaned loudly as he rolled over and glimpsed the open rafters on the ceiling before passing out.

Gordon came back into the kitchen after dropping his toolbox in his pickup truck. He unlocked the cuffs holding Sam to the chair, hefted him up onto his shoulders, carried him out to his truck and tossed him into the back. He went back into the kitchen and looked around for the hypodermic he had discarded earlier, spotting it he picked it up and glanced around for anything else he might have forgotten. He walked back out to his truck, pulled a tarp over the back covering Sam's unconscious body, got into his truck and followed the dirt road up into the surrounding hillside.

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_No I'm not going AU, Sam still killed Jake and Dean still killed the YED. I see no reason why the boys should tell Gordon the full, unvarnished truth. Also, since Gordon is nuttier than a fruitcake about the psychic kids being soldiers in a coming demon war, could you imagine what he would do if he knew Sam had been killed by Jake, Dean had made a deal to bring him back and it was possible Sam didn't come back 100 percent original Sam? I shudder at the thought although it would give the SN writers and fanficers possible story lines._


	5. Chapter 5

_Poor Dean. Poor, poor Dean. Just remember, nails do grow back. But now I get to torture Sam. Bwahahahah!!_

_Ahhh, crud…year end inventory starts Wednesday (hangs head) I'm really not looking forward to counting diodes and end-of-line resistors._

_Knik-knik (ka-nick - ka-nick) is a evergreen groundcover with tiny red berries that deer supposedly eat._

**Hunted Again - Chapter 5**

When Sam cracked his eyes open he knew something was different - first, there was the pounding headache and the entire field of cotton growing in his mouth; second, there was a cool breeze blowing his hair around; third, his arms were tied around something wide and rough and fourth, his butt was definitely being poked by many sharp somethings. He lifted his head and blearily looked around. "_Pine trees, rocks, knik-knik…I'm not in Kansas anymore,_" he thought.

"Sammy." Gordon squatted down in front of him, held Sam's chin and flashed his penlight into Sam's eyes.

Sam squinted and turned his head away. "What the hell is going on Gordon?"

"Getting answers Sammy."

"Answers to what?" Sam looked around, "where's Dean?"

"Resting." Gordon stood up, walked over to his duffel bag and pulled out two bottles of water. Gordon opened one, took a couple of mouthfuls and recapped it. Sam watched him, his thirst growing. Gordon held up the unopened bottle and looked at Sam expectantly.

Sam nodded his head. "Resting from what?"

Gordon opened the bottle and held it for Sam to drink, then pulled it away after Sam had a few mouthfuls. "'Resting from what?' Sammy, don't you remember our quality time together a few hours ago?" Sam shook his head and leaned back against the tree. "So you don't remember anything from the last 12 hours?"

"Beyond you shooting Dean and threatening to shoot me, no," Sam was confused, "_12 hours?_" he thought. "What did you do to Dean?" he asked angrily. Sam pulled his feet up and hissed in pain when his left knee protested and a sharp pain erupted in his thigh, "what did you do?"

"Huh, interesting side effect. Well Sammy, you never did finish telling me where the yellow-eyed demon was located." He dropped the water bottles back in the duffel bag and pulled out a blood stained knife. Gordon squatted in front of Sam again, holding up the knife. "This is Dean's blood Sammy. He became quite cooperative after loosing a pint or so. He was very happy to tell me all about Jake, the Devil's Gate in Wyoming and Ash."

Sam glanced at the knife then back to Gordon's grinning face. "I don't believe you."

"Suit yourself. But as we speak he is laying on a cold dirt floor, bleeding like a stuck pig." Sam struggled to get his hands free. Gordon grabbed Sam's hair and yanked his head back. Sam stopped struggling and held his breath when Gordon slowly drew the knife across his neck, just breaking the skin. "This is the deal Sammy, you tell me everything about your family's personal yellow-eyed demon and I'll release you."

Keeping his fear at bay and breathing shallowly Sam replied, "what's the catch?"

"I get to hunt you. If you make it back to the house before Dean bleeds to death, I'll let you and him go, no harm - no foul. But if I catch you," he grinned, "you'll die. And the FBI will blame your death on Dean."

"Why should the FBI care about Dean?"

"Does the name 'Special Agent Hendrickson' ring a bell?"

Startled, Sam gaped at Gordon for a second before replying, "no."

Laughing Gordon replied, "yeah I can see that."

Fear tinged Sam's next question, "what did you do Gordon?"

"Anonymous tip, Sammy." Gordon had been waiting a long time to throw those words back at the Winchester kid and it felt…exhilarating, especially Sam's reaction to the words.

"YOU BASTARD!" Sam stilled when Gordon increased the knife's pressure, blood slowly trickled down his neck, staining his t-shirt. Sam stared at Gordon, wishing he could wipe that self-righteous smirk off his face.

"Tick-tock Sammy. The longer you bitch at me the more blood your brother loses."

Sam's mind raced, "_Why can't I remember what happened after we arrived at the house? Can I take the chance that Gordon is lying? What would Dean do…besides piss Gordon off?_" Sam subtly relaxed his posture, knowing that he was in for the run of his life. "Fine, you hunt me but just so we're clear, this time I wont stop Dean from killing you."

Gordon laughed taking the knife away from Sam's throat. "Dean wont be in any shape to do much of anything by the time the Feds pick him up and you'll be just another murder charge on his rap sheet. But hey, keep those spirits up." Gordon sat down on a rock a few feet away from Sam, "now, how about you tell me about that yellow-eyed demon of yours."

"What do you want to know?"

"What's he planning? How is he going to use you psychics?"

"He isn't planning anything and there aren't any psychics left." Sam could see that his answer didn't make Gordon happy at all. "Don't get me wrong Gordon, he was planning something with all those demons Jake let out of Hell but I don't know what. Plus it doesn't matter anymore since I killed that yellow-eyed son of a bitch."

"I don't think so Sammy. A high level demon like that can't just be killed, it takes…"

"The Colt," Sam spat out.

"What?" replied a startled Gordon.

"The. Colt." he reiterated slowly.

"The Colt? You mean **the** Colt? Samuel Colt's legendary 'will kill anything supernatural' Colt?" Sam nodded. "Where in the hell did you get it and where is it now?" Gordon leaned forward, visions of grandeur flowing through his head.

"It doesn't matter how we got it or where it is because that doesn't matter..."

"Doesn't matter? Of course it matters! I could use that Colt…"

"Use it for what? All the bullets are gone. The only thing it is good for now is thwacking people over the head," Sam replied in disgust. Leaning forwards he yelled in Gordon's face, "you have your answers. Now…LET. ME. GO!"

Noticeably pissed off Gordon stood up, "fine, hunt Sammy time." He unlocked the cuffs on Sam's ankles and then the ones on his wrists.

Painfully Sam pulled his arms up to his chest, he wiggled his fingers trying to get some feeling back into them. Sarcastically Sam said, "so are you going to give me a hint on which direction to go? Or are you going to give me a tiny knife so that when you share this story with the one or two hunters that can stand being around you, you can say 'Well I gave him a knife'?"

Gordon walked over to his duffel bag after releasing Sam and grabbed a gun. "No," he replied as he turned around, pointed the gun at Sam and fired, hitting the tree just above Sam's head.

"Hey!" Sam ducked and clumsily rolled away from the tree. Gordon shot at Sam again forcing him to military low crawl away as fast as his tingling arms and legs would go. He managed to get his legs underneath him and run a few yards, with Gordon still firing at him, before the land disappeared beneath his feet. Sam couldn't stop the yell that came out when he fell and then rolled down the steep, brush covered hill. He slid to a stop against a honeysuckle bush and laid there breathing heavily with the world spinning around him. Groaning he lifted his head and looked up the hill but couldn't see or hear Gordon. He forced himself to roll over, crawl around the bush and continue on down the hill as quietly as he could with all his new cuts, scrapes and a knee that really hated him at the moment.

Gordon growled in frustration as Sam disappeared over the edge of the hill. He fired a few more times then stopped to look and listen for movement down the hill. Seeing nothing he turned, grabbed his duffel and hurried in the other direction towards his truck. Gordon threw his duffel into the front seat, hopped in and drove down the mountain to a secluded pull out. He pulled out a flashlight, his 9mm, two knives and his Winchester rifle, which gave him a chuckle when he thought of the irony in hunting a Winchester with a Winchester. He didn't believe Sam for a minute that the yellow-eyed demon was deceased, "_that son of a bitch is protecting his Master and Dean is helping him,_" he thought as he walked into the surrounding woods, smiling as he thought of the hunt to come.

_snsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsn_

"Shit," Dean swore under his breath as he woke up and moved his legs. "Gordon, I swear I'm going to kill you when I get out of here." He yelped when he rolled over onto his left wrist, forgetting that it was broken. "Definitely dead." Dean managed to get himself upright, "damnit," he swore when seeing the scab covered cuts on his thighs in the gloomy basement. He gently took his jacket and long sleeved shirt off, tore his shirt up into strips and wrapped his left hand and wrist securely before putting his jacket back on to ward off the chill. Dean did his best not to break open the cuts on his thighs when he stood up but by the feeling of warm blood trickling down his legs, he wasn't successful. He shuffled around the basement looking for a way out that didn't include climbing the ten feet up the stone wall to the door.

Dean started feeling light headed and had to sit down before he fell over. His hand landed on something hard in his jacket pocket and he pulled out his forgotten cell phone. "Yes!" He turned it on and was disappointed to see that the signal strength was only one bar, "shit," he dialed Sam's number anyways and heard it ring.

"_Dean…you…_"

"Thank god Sammy! Are you okay?" Dean heard Sam breathing heavily through the staticy reception.

"_As fine as I….Gordon…hunting me. He said…Agent Hendric…run De..._"

"Sam you're breaking up! Sammy!" The phone lost reception. "Damnit," Dean said as he leaned his head against the wall, "he's hunting Sam." He suddenly remembered what Gordon had told him after he hit the ground, "son of a bitch! That god-damned son of a bitch set us up. I'm gonna kill him." Dean was more determined than ever to get out of the basement and rescue his brother. He got up and started searching the walls in earnest. Shoving an old pie safe away from the wall he discovered the door to a disused coal chute. The handle moved with a little force but the door hinges were rusted shut and he had to look for something to use as a crowbar. After banging his broken wrist a few times and inventing new and colorful swear words, he finally found a length of rebar, he shoved it between the edge of the door and the wall. Dean swore long and loudly while prying the door open and after 15 minutes he was successful. Sweating, exhausted, covered in fresh blood and in considerable pain he thought about sitting down for a breather but knew he would pass out if he did, so he crawled up the chute and shoved the rotten boards covering the opening out of the way. After falling out of the opening, Dean laid on the wet ground looking up at the falling dusk, "_I'm sorry Sammy, I don't think I can move,_" he thought before passing out.

_snsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsn_

Sam was tired, he was tired of running, he was tired of sliding into trees and he was tired of falling down this damn unending hill. His left knee had swollen to twice its normal size and he could barely put weight on it anymore and heat was radiating from a painful spot on his thigh. He just wanted a cold drink, an aspirin the size of New Mexico and a soft, warm, non-hill like bed but he'd settle for his brother driving up with guns ablazing. "_Oh god, I'm losing it,_" he thought as his back slid down the rough tree bark and he landed on pinecones. He wiped his sweat soaked bangs out of his eyes and was startled when his cell phone started ringing, he grinned after glancing at the name displayed on the screen, "Dean are you okay?"

"_Thank…ammy! …you…kay?_"

"As fine as I can be with Gordon hunting me. He said he called Agent Hendrickson, you gotta run Dean, get out of there!" All he heard back was static. "Dean! Dean! Damnit!" He shut his cell off and stuck it back into his pocket. "He's alive. Up yours Gordon." His reverie was interrupted when a bullet nicked his arm. "Ow!" Sam didn't even look up the hill he just took off running.

Gordon was getting peeved, Sam was harder to track then he had expected. He knelt down to check some scuff marks next to a pine tree when he heard the distinct sound of a cell phone ringing, "gotcha," he quickly followed the sound down the hill. "Yo Sammy! Didn't your Daddy teach you not to leave your cell phone on when being chased through the woods?" Now that he had found his quarry again Gordon was back to enjoying the hunt. "You call yourself a hunter Sammy? You're to easy to find!" he taunted as he advanced down the hill.

Breathing heavily Sam knew his injured knee was slowing him down and the deepening gloom didn't help either. He took the chance to look back and gauge Gordon's location while sliding into the next tree, unfortunately he didn't see the large rock the tree was growing against. He hit it and couldn't stop himself from going head over teakettle down the hill and over the edge of a cliff. The next thing Sam knew he was falling, screaming and flailing his arms he hit the ice cold water of the lake 25 feet below the cliff. The force of the landing drove all the air out of his lungs and water rushed into Sam's open mouth, choking him as he sank.


	6. Chapter 6

_Good cliffy? Literally, eh? Well at least the cold water should help Sam's knee. Sorry about having to replace Chapter 5 three minutes after uploading, I forgot to add a sentence. Oops._

_The lake I'm using is a cross between Horse Thief Lake, Pactola Reservoir and Sylvan Lake. I know this doesn't help y'all envision the lake but it works for me. Besides you can always look the lakes up on the 'net and take a peek at them._

**Hunted Again - Chapter 6**

Dean woke with a jerk, "what the hell? Oh crap!" He was chilled to the bone which seemed to help numb the pain in his thighs and wrist. Gingerly rolling over, he used a sapling to pull himself up. Once standing he looked around the dark yard, through the pine trees leaning over the house he spotted his car gleaming in the intermittent moonlight. "Yes, something finally went right," Dean said painfully shuffling over to his car. He checked his pockets for the keys and came up empty, "shit," he started to awkwardly hotwire his car when he remembered the extra set of keys Sam had insisted on hiding under the driver's seat. "_Nope, not telling Sammy he was right,_" he thought as he pulled them out of the hiding spot. Dean sat in the car and tried to figure out where Gordon would have taken Sam. "Tire tracks?" He pulled himself out of the car and started checking the ground. Dean saw were his car had been driven into the yard and followed a track towards the back of the house. Passing the house he walked further along the track and around a large stand of pines he found what he was looking for, tracks from a pickup truck leading onto a dirt road and off up into the hills. Forgetting the pain in his legs, Dean ran back to the Impala, hopped inside and tore up the ground racing to save his brother.

_snsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsn _

Sinking in the cold water Sam watched as rocks, rotten logs and pine tree litter hit the water and sank around him. Spasms racked his arms and legs from the painful landing and the lack of oxygen, he wanted to allow himself to continue sinking but the thought of Dean being alone when the crossroads demon returned to collect her payment forced Sam to start swimming upwards. He broke the surface, took a deep breath of air and started coughing. Treading water he looked up at the cliff he had slid over, "shit," he said in awe. Shivering from the cold, Sam turned around in a circle trying to get his bearings in the twilight. He started swimming towards some trees he hoped were on shore.

"Sammy!"

Sam spun around, blinking when the beam from a flashlight hit him in the eyes, he looked up and saw Gordon's silhouette at the edge of the cliff. A bright flash of light was the only warning he got before a bullet whizzed by his head, close enough that he felt the hot air as it went by. Without a second thought he took a deep breath and dived down beneath the surface to escape Gordon's deadly rain of bullets. He couldn't see the bullets go by but he felt the ripples of displaced water. Sam tried to recollect the outcome of the _MythBusters _episode Dean had forced him to watch on shooting at a person under the water. He distinctly remembered telling Dean, "_how in the hell would this myth pertain to us? Ninety-nine point nine percent of the spirits, zombies, ghosts and other things that we hunt don't shoot at us. So cut the volume, I want to get some sleep._" _Dean had replied,_ "_you never know Sammy. We might piss off the wrong person someday,_" _he had given Dean the evil eye,_ "_okay __**I**__ might piss off the wrong person someday and he or she could come after you. So just watch the show, you might learn something useful college boy. Oh yeah, Kari's mine so hands off."_ Sam jerked back when a bullet hit him in the chest, luckily he was deep enough and the bullet had lost enough momentum that it didn't kill him but it did hurt like hell. Sam couldn't hold his breath any longer and had to swim to the surface, taking the chance of getting shot.

Gordon shined his flashlight over the surface of the murky water searching for Sam. He knew Sam couldn't hold his breath for much longer and in the darkness he also knew Sam wouldn't be able to see in which direction the shoreline laid. Suddenly he heard splashing and gasping, Gordon swung his flashlight in the direction of the noises. He set his sights on Sam's back where his neck met his shoulders and pulled the trigger.

Sam gasped for air. Between whatever Gordon had done to him, running through the woods and swallowing lake water his stomach rebelled and he threw up, which saved his life. Seconds after he bent over, the bullet meant to pass through his lower neck ended up passing harmlessly through his jacket and hoodie. Sam dived under the surface again, swam a little ways and surfaced again to throw up some more. He could hear Gordon swearing a blue streak as he spat out the disgusting taste in his mouth. He knew it was dangerous but Sam took few seconds to get his bearings after the moon came out from behind the clouds and tried again to head for shore. He did his best to stay under the surface and not go in a straight line to make it harder for Gordon to predict where he'd surface for air which also made it more difficult for him to reach shore.

Walking carefully along the edge of the cliff Gordon kept checking the water. He thought about pulling a Rambo and strafing the lake but he didn't want a GF&P Ranger to come sniffing around, checking out a report of out-of-season gunfire. Hearing splashing he swung his flashlight around, catching Sam climbing over the rocks edging the shore. "WINCHESTER!" Sam glanced behind him and clambered faster over the rocks and took off running a zig-zag pattern through the grass heading towards the safety of the tree line. Gordon took careful aim and pulled the trigger, Sam cried out and stumbled but stayed on his feet and disappeared into the trees. "God damnit! Son of a fuckin' bitch!" he swore watching his quarry get away, "that damn demon is helping him, I know it."

_snsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsn_

Dean pulled over and turned the car off when he thought he heard gunfire. He sat and listened intently, nothing. "I know I heard…" He started the Impala back up again and drove on, searching the darkness.

_snsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsn_

Hunched over, Sam pressed his hand against his side to staunch the flow of blood. "Just freaking great," he said breathing heavily. He leaned against a tree and took stock of his injuries - badly twisted left knee…check, painful left thigh…check, deep bruise on chest from bullet strike…check, flesh wound in upper right arm…check, through and through bullet wound below his ribs on the right side…check, numerous cuts and scrapes…check, check and check. "This sucks." Sam took off his jacket, hoodie and long sleeve shirt. He ripped a strip off the bottom of his shirt and wrapped it around the wound on his right arm he next rolled up the rest of the shirt into a long strip and wrapped it around the heavily bleeding bullet holes below his ribs, he ground his teeth together in pain when he pulled the bandage tight and knotted it securely. After wringing out his jacket and hoodie as well as he could he put them back on. He looked between the trees watching the beam from Gordon's flashlight as he looked for away down. "Crap, there's never a ring platform around when you need one." He rubbed his bloody hands off on his jacket and pulled out his cell, "double crap," he yanked the battery, dumped out the water and shoved it back into his jacket. He walked as quietly as he could from tree to tree barely able to see anything.

Carefully picking his way down from the cliff Gordon swore over and over again, "no more playing around Winchester. As soon as I find you, you're getting one right between the eyes." He slid the rest of the way down the hill and started shining the flashlight beam around. Gordon listened for the sounds of another human moving around in the darkness. Hearing a branch snap in the distance he hurried in that direction. Rounding a large tree he stopped and started checking the ground for scuff marks, a soft sound made him look up and he saw Sam for a split second before a large branch hit him in the face, knocking him unconscious.

Breathing heavily Sam kicked Gordon in the ribs to make sure he wasn't faking being unconscious before he dropped the branch. Wincing as he bent over, he rolled Gordon onto his back and appropriated his weapons, flashlight and cell phone. Next he pulled Gordon's belt off, hauled him up into a sitting position against a tree and tied his hands securely behind it. Sam ripped a strip off Gordon's shirt and gagged him. Standing over Gordon, Sam deliberated if he should just kill him outright for torturing his brother and attempting to kill him. He pulled out the 9mm, pointed it at Gordon's head and he willed himself to pull the trigger. In his mind's eye he could hear Gordon demanding, "_Do it. Do it! Show your brother the killer you really are, Sammy._" Sam's finger tightened on the trigger but he couldn't bring himself to shoot. "Gordon, you're damn lucky I'm not an evil bastard like you." He turned and limped away.

_snsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsn_

Dean slowed down when his headlights shined off the rear bumper of a pickup truck hidden behind a stand of trees, he glanced around suspiciously as he pulled over to the side of the road. Gingerly reaching over to the glove compartment he kept an eye on the surrounding area while pulling out his .45. Dean quickly checked out the pickup, the registration was in the name of a Graig Andersen but the toolbox in the back was the same one Gordon had used back at the house. He looked around trying to figure out in which direction Gordon had went, Dean eventually came to a spot were it looked like someone had scuffed up the leaf mold but he wasn't entirely sure. "Damnit, damnit, damnit! SAMMY!" He pulled out his cell and dialed Sam's number, "_you've reached 785-555-2804. Please leave your name and number and I'll get back to you,_" Dean clicked his cell off, "stupid voicemail."

He walked a short way into the woods flashing his light around, "yeah somebody definitely went through here," he muttered while kneeling next to some disturbed tree litter. "Either I follow this and maybe find Sam or I drive back down the road and maybe find Sam. Shit," Dean looked up at the star filled sky, "Dad I need a little help down here," he listened to the wind blow through the trees, "crap, Dad and his damn voicemail." He went back to his car, turned it around and drove slowly back down the mountain. He jumped when the cell phone rang.

_snsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsn_

Sliding into another tree, his injured side hitting first, Sam decided that having a flashlight made no difference in his complete and utter dislike for nature in all her glory and he was really wishing that Gordon had had some water on him. Wiping his bangs out of his eyes for the fiftieth time he pushed himself off the tree and continued limping through the woods. Sam was zoning out when he heard rushing water ahead of him, hanging onto a tree he shined the light down the hill and at the bottom he could just see a creek or river. "Another freaking hill," he grumbled while looking around for what he hoped would be an easy way down. Sam slowly inched his way down the steep slope holding onto sapling birches until he came to a ledge 12 feet above the water. He sat down on the ledge, his legs dangling over and leaned back against a couple of saplings. "I hate life, life hates me…" he quietly sang to himself involuntarily closing his eyes.

"_sammy!_" Startled awake by the echo Sam almost fell off the ledge, he frantically looked around for Gordon. "Dean?" he whispered. "Shit…Gordon's cell." Sam pulled it out of his pocket and dialed Dean's number.

"_WHAT?_"

"Dean!"

"_Sam, thank God. Where are you? Are you alright?_"

"Yeah, I'll live. I…I don't know where I am…I fell into a lake and now I'm above a creek or river." He shined the light out across the water.

"_You fell into a lake? How did you…never mind tell me later. Uh, I crossed a bridge driving up here. Hopefully if you follow the river down stream we'll meet up…eventually._"

"Walk down stream…got it."

"_Where's Gordon?_"

"He's tied up at the moment."

"_Hopefully a bear will eat him._"

"I can only hope. See ya in a few."

"_Bitch._"

"Jerk," Sam laughed and hung up. He flashed the light down the rock wall looking for an easy way down. Shoving the flashlight into his pocket, his left knee had stiffened up and he hissed from the pain as he rolled over and lowered himself down to the first foothold on the rock face.

_snsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsn_

Grinning, Dean relaxed slightly knowing his little brother was alive and moving. He guessimated that it would take him about 20 minutes or so to get back to the bridge and no telling how long it would take Sam to get there. That is if it was the same river, if Gordon didn't get loose and if he didn't hit a wayward moose, porcupine or armadillo along the way. Gordon's obsession with Sam had definitely crossed over into the sick and twisted. He was going to have to find a permanent solution to Gordon, Sam wasn't going to be happy about it but Sam dying by Gordon's hand was not an option.

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_If people are wondering GF&P is short for the Department of Game, Fish and Parks. I think of them as the 'Dept. of Deer, Trout and Trees'._

_No moose, porcupines or armadillos were injured during the writing of this story. Armadillos are not indigenous and do not live in Montana. I just think 'dillos are cute the way they jump when their butt hairs are tickled by a passing vehicle. Jump, thwack, spin. (giggle)_


	7. Chapter 7

_Gordon, Gordon, Gordon (shakes head) your Sammy obsession is going to be your undoing. Hope to see ya in Season 3._

**Hunted Again - Chapter 7**

Wedging his fingers into a crevice Sam moved his right foot down to the next foothold. Feeling around for another fingerhold he felt his foot slipping, he frantically moved his hand back but his injured knee couldn't handle the strain and he fell the last four feet into the river. Sam struggled to the surface, he did his best to keep his head above the water as he was battered about by the strong current and smashed into the rocks, loosing the rifle and 9mm in the process. He reached out to overhanging branches but they either snapped under his weight and the pull of the river or he couldn't hold on long enough to haul himself up.

After being tossed around like a cork for what felt like forever but was actually only around 15 minutes, the river became shallower as it spread out and the current slowed down enough Sam was able to crawl out of the water onto a sandbar jutting out from the river bank. He laid on his back shivering, breathing heavily and coughing up water, staring up at the stars he considered just staying put until Dean found him. But then he'd have to put up with Dean's teasing him about being a wuss and needing to train harder so he forced himself to roll over and stand up. Limping, he followed the sandbar around a bend and in the distance saw a bridge spanning the river, "with my luck that isn't the right bridge," he mumbled. Adjusting his course and he headed back into the woods, aiming for the embankment next to the bridge. Sam stumbled and lurched into another tree, figuring his lack of coordination was the result of blood loss he put his hand on his side and found the makeshift bandage saturated with blood. As he walked closer to the embankment the higher it seemed get and the less enthusiasm he was able to muster for the climb.

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Dean wanted to drive faster but the muddy road conditions and the sharp, hairpin turns forced him to slow down to a more reasonable speed which made his trip down the mountain take longer than he first estimated. When the bridge came into view he slowed down to a crawl and looked around intently for his brother. As he reached the far side of the bridge he was getting worried that Sam and he weren't on the same river. "Son of a bitch," he said smacking the steering wheel.

Getting a niggling feeling on the back of his neck Dean glanced in the rearview mirror, "Sam," he said gratefully when he saw his brother standing on the side of the road, slightly bent over and holding his side. His happiness was short lived as he watched Sam get tackled by a dark shape. "SAM!"

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Hearing the distinctive sound of the Impala Sam climbed faster to the top of the embankment. The echo of rocks falling caused him stop and look back. Not seeing anything below, Sam continued up the embankment and stumbled out onto the road, "Dean," Sam called out weakly seeing his brother's car. The next thing Sam knew he was hitting the ground…hard, Gordon sat on his chest and punched him in the face once then twice, stunning him.

The world was browning out when Gordon leaned down, grabbed Sam's hoodie and pulled him up, he whispered in Sam's ear, "I win Sammy." Then he pulled a knife from his boot and plunged it down, aiming for Sam's chest. Sam was able to get his arms up in time and pushed his hands against Gordon's to stop the downward arc of the knife but he was exhausted and Gordon had the advantage of being on top. The knife steadily came down and had barely pierced his skin when he heard a loud roar and Gordon disappeared from view. Confused, Sam tried to raise himself up to see what happened but his body refused to move and he slipped into unconsciousness.

Dean sat in shock for a half a minute before jumping out of his car and running as fast as he could to his brother's aid. He saw Sam grimace as the knife point made contact, "NOOOOO!" he screamed, the image of Sam being stabbed by Jake ran through his head just before he tackled Gordon. They rolled over with Dean landing on top, he punched Gordon's face again and again while yelling, "you tried to kill my brother." He brought his fist back to strike once more but Gordon grabbed it and punched Dean twice in quick succession knocking him off onto the ground. Gordon searched around for his knife, spotting it a foot or so from Sam's unmoving hand, he quickly crab crawled over to it. Snatching it up he got ready to thrust it into Sam's side when Dean wrapped his arm around Gordon's neck, yanking him away from his little brother.

Gordon whipped his head back hitting Dean in the mouth making him to loosen his grip. Gordon then grabbed Dean's arm, flipped him over his shoulder and onto the ground. Gordon raised his knife to stab Dean instead he was kicked in the stomach forcing him to bend over gasping, Dean then swung his legs around behind Gordon knocking his legs out from under him. Gordon grunted as he landed on his back but he quickly recovered and rolled over. Getting to his feet he faced Dean, "you're brother is evil Dean and evil must be destroyed. Why can't you see that?"

"Sam isn't evil and he never will be. Not while I'm around." He angled around Gordon keeping an eye on the knife.

"In that case, you wont be around for long," Gordon declared as he lunged at Dean, who blocked his move and answered with an knee to his stomach and an elbow to his nose. Gordon yelled as blood gushed from his broken nose. Growling, he swiped at Dean nicking his palm, Gordon lunged at Dean again forcing him to take a step back. Gordon kept forcing him back until Dean grabbed his knife hand again.

"Sam isn't going to stop me from killing you this time Gordon," Dean asserted while holding Gordon's arm up in the air.

"We'll see about that Dean," Gordon replied before punching Dean in the neck then kicking him in the chest. Forced backwards by the punch to the neck Dean stumbled over his brother's unconscious body. While trying not to fall on him, Gordon's kick caused him to loose his footing and he landed next to Sam. Gordon stepped over Sam, knelt down next to Dean and grabbed his t-shirt, "times up Winchester."

Dean grabbed the hand holding the knife, brought his legs up into Gordon's stomach and flipped him over his head. He let the momentum carry him over so he landed on top, Dean twisted the knife around in Gordon's hand, brought it up to Gordon's throat and pushed down with all his weight. The pain of his broken wrist and other wounds forgotten as the knife came incrementally closer to his torturer's throat. "You can't kill a fellow human being," Gordon croaked, his arms shaking with the strain of holding Dean at bay, as the knife tip pierced his skin.

Glancing up at his brother's sprawled body then back at Gordon he replied, "yes…I can." With a surge of adrenaline Dean thrust the knife half way through Gordon's neck. Gordon choked and bucked, Dean held on and shoved the knife all the way through and into the mud of the roadside underneath them. Blood welled up and poured from Gordon's mouth while his body convulsed. Ignoring Gordon's death throes, Dean crawled over to Sam, rolled him onto his back and checked his pulse and breathing. "Sam we gotta get moving," Dean gently shook him, "Sam," he felt his brother's forehead, "damn, you're hot."

Rolling his head Sam quietly muttered, "Dean." Dean shook him again and Sam opened his eyes. "Hey."

"Hey back. You ready to blow this popsicle stand?" Dean had his hand on Sam's side and when he unconsciously pressed down to push himself up Sam hissed and shoved Dean's hand off. "Sam what?" Dean pulled his hand away, opened Sam's hoodie and saw the bloody bandage, "Sam?"

"I zigged when I should have zagged," he replied holding his side and using Dean's shoulder to pull himself upright. Sam wavered when his sight dimmed, reaching out he grabbed onto his brother's wrist for support, unfortunately it was Dean's broken one and he let out a pained yelp. "Dean what's wrong?"

"Broken wrist," he replied through clenched teeth.

"I'm sorry…I...I...didn't know." Sam started coughing and had to bend over to catch his breath and spit out the water that came up.

"You need a doctor Sam," Dean said while helping his brother stagger towards the Impala. Sam glanced back at Gordon's body.

"Can't say I'm sorry he's dead."

"Me either."

Sam shivered as sat in the passenger seat of the Impala, "thanks Dean," he said gratefully. Dean grinned as he went to the trunk, opened it and pulled out a bag of salt and can of lighter fluid which he placed on the ground and then reached back in for a shovel. "Here I'll help you with the salt and burn," he said hissing as he pulled himself up and out of the car.

"Sam no. You have a fever, you're wheezing and can barely stand. I'll get this."

"Your wrist is broken Dean. How are you going to dig?" Dean glowered at him. "Okay, we'll take turns, alright?"

"Fine," Dean replied, clearly unhappy with the idea. The brothers dug an oblong hole, dragged Gordon's still twitching body over to the hole and rolled it in. They tossed salt and lighter fluid onto the body and set it alight. Snow was gently falling by the time the body had burned down to dust and the hole filled in again. Sam and Dean were ready to drop, the only thing keeping them upright was sheer force of will. After they had put their equipment away and the car had once again started down the slick mountain road Sam lost the fight to stay awake. Dean listened to his brother's breathing get worse as the miles rolled by, "Sammy, we need help."


	8. Chapter 8

_Considering this story was only supposed to take 6 chapters, I'm quite amazed with myself. And I'm starting to wonder if it is a bad thing to have so much fun being mean to the boys. _

_Well Jared and Jensen should be having fun back up in Vancouver, BC and I wish them an injury free year. October can't get here quick enough._

_Once again a pronunciation guide - Gijoe (gee-joe) and Anja (on-ya)._

**Hunted Again - Chapter 8**

The rain was coming down hard when Dean pulled off to the side of the interstate and dialed Bobby's number. "Bobby it's Dean."

"_Hey Dean. How are you and Sam doing? Find anymore demons?_"

The Impala rocked as it was buffeted by the wind caused by a passing semi. "We aren't doing to good Bobby. We had another run in with Gordon Walker…and he…Sam needs a doctor pretty badly."

"_Son of a bitch…I'm going to kill that bastard!"_

"Already took care of him, permanently."

Bobby was silent for a minute, "good. _Where are you?_"

"Uh, Montana. Heading east out of the Bitterroot Mountains on I-90...we passed Superior about 3 minutes ago."

"_Okay, okay, go to the Flathead Clinic in Missoula. Get off I-90 at the Butler Creek Drive exit, take the first right, drive two blocks and take a left onto Clark Fork Road. The clinic's in a squat green building on the right, ask for Paul Tobin, he'll help."_

"Flathead Clinic…Butler Creek Drive exit…Paul Tobin. Got it."

"_What about you Dean? It isn't like you are in the top 10 on his 'Favorite People' list._"

"I'll live."

"_How bad Dean?_"

"He worked me over pretty good Bobby. He tortured me to get Sammy to talk."

"_Damnit. He wanted information about the demon's plans didn't he?_"

"Yeah."

Bobby sighed loudly, "_I'll call Paul and tell him to expect you. I'll be there as soon as I can. You be careful Dean._"

"Thanks Bobby." Dean snapped his cell shut. Leaning his head against the steering wheel he zoned out to the slight squeaking sound of the windshield wipers. His eyes snapped open when Sam started coughing harshly. Rubbing his eyes and swearing at himself for dozing off, he reached over and held onto Sam's shoulder. When Sam bent over coughing and wheezing Dean started rubbing him on the back, "you're okay Sam. Just breathe slowly." Sam's coughing lessened, he sat back up and leaned back against the seat. "Better?" Sam nodded.

"My turn to drive Dean," he said hoarsely.

"No Sam, you're sick."

"And you're not? Come on, I can see that you're tired and in pain. I've had some sleep, so it's my turn now."

Dean turned the car's ignition back on and pulled back onto the interstate. "Big brother's prerogative Sammy. My car…I'm driving."

Sighing Sam replied, "fine. Have you seen any signs for a motel?"

"I'm taking you to a clinic."

"We can't go to a clinic. I've been shot Dean, they'll report it to the cops…"

"Don't worry…"

"Dean they'll send us back to jail and Hendrickson will have us watched 24/7!" his voice rising, the wheezing sound becoming more pronounced.

"Sammy don't worry!" Dean shouted back. "I called Bobby and he knows a guy who works at a clinic in Missoula." He said more gently, "we'll be fine Sam. Don't worry." He glanced over at Sam who was pale faced and shivering uncontrollably even with the car's heater going full blast.

Sam quietly replied, "only if you let him treat you too."

"I will," promised Dean. He didn't add what he was thinking, "_only after he helps you Sam._"

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Sam woke up when a light was shone into his eyes. "No," he said hoarsely, opening his eyes further he saw a dark face looking at him, "Gordon no!" he swung at the man who caught his arm easily and pulled him out of the Impala. Sam struggled until a familiar form grabbed him and tried to hold him still.

"Sammy stop! Sam, this is Paul not Gordon! Sammy!" Dean held his struggling brother until he slumped to the ground unconscious again.

"Gijoe help me with Sam. Gloria, help Dean," Paul ordered.

"I'm not leaving Sam," Dean declared, holding his left wrist tightly to his chest.

"Dean, I'm not separating you from Sam. Your wrist is broken isn't it?" Dean reluctantly nodded. "It will be easier on Sam if Gijoe helps me carry him inside. And Gloria's main job is to make sure you don't hit your head on the ground hard enough to make a mess when you finally drop from exhaustion. Alright?" Paul explained quickly, trying to get them out of the rain and into the clinic before anybody noticed their condition and called the cops.

"Fine but if anything happens to Sam…"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah…I know…pain, blood, general chaos and mayhem. I've known Bobby Singer for over 20 years Dean, I know the score." Dr. Paul Tobin finally got his two new patients into an exam room. Laying Sam out on the exam table he cut off his damp clothes. "Crap, what happened to him Dean?" he asked after seeing all the bruises covering Sam's body.

Gloria pushed Dean down onto the other exam table and started removing his jacket and t-shirt. "Uh, he slipped and banged his left knee on a rock, Gordon broke a needle off in his left thigh after injecting some weird chemical into him, he said he fell into a lake, Gordon shot him and hit him."

Staring at Dean for a moment Paul turned back to Sam, gently peeling back the blood soaked bandage and t-shirt he examined the bullet holes in Sam's side, "Gijoe we are going to need x-rays of his left knee and thigh and his right side. Dean are either of you allergic to any medications?" Paul asked while Gijoe made notations on Sam's chart.

"Sam's allergic to amoxicillin."

"What about you Dean?" Paul prompted while gently probing the large hematoma on Sam's thigh.

Staring at Sam, Dean shook his head tiredly, "no."

"Do you know your blood types?"

"He's AB neg and I'm B neg."

"Okay, Gijoe have Jace set up the OR and cross match four units of AB neg for Sam and two units of B neg for Dean. Tell Anja she'll need 4 suture kits for Dean when he's finished getting his wrist x-rayed and set. Go." Gijoe completed his notations and wheeled Sam out of the room, Dean slid off the table to follow but the effects of blood loss and the events of the day had finally caught up with him and he passed out.

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Returning to consciousness Dean noticed his wrist, fingers and thighs didn't hurt. "_Cool,_" he thought. He opened his eyes and flinched when he saw Bobby's scruffy, worried face hovering over him. "Whoa dude, personal space," he rasped.

Bobby's face lit up as he sat down and smiled at Dean, "how you doin' Dean?"

Dean looked down and moved his feet a little then lifted his casted arm, "good drugs Bobby. Damn good drugs," he grinned a little, "how long was I out?"

"Eleven hours," replied Bobby.

He looked around the room, "where's Sam? Is he alright?" Getting worried Dean tried to sit up.

"He's okay Dean…Sam's okay," Bobby replied laying a hand on Dean's shoulder. "He's out of surgery and in the Recovery Room. They need to keep a close eye on him since he breathed in so much water." Dean didn't look very reassured and started to swing his legs over the edge of the bed. "Dean you need to relax, Anja will be mad if you tear out your stitches. And you really don't want to make her mad," Bobby visibly shuddered.

"Bobby's right Dean, you need to relax," Paul agreed walking into the room. "Sam's very weak and I'm just taking extra precautions so he doesn't develop pneumonia or a condition called secondary drowning." He checked Dean's vitals and wrote them down on a chart.

"I need to see him Doc."

"Two hours Dean. Give me two hours and I'll have him moved in here, alright?"

"Bobby…" he pleaded.

"I'm going to sit with Sam," Bobby said getting up.

"Thanks Bobby," Dean replied quietly. Paul left the room with Bobby and Dean stared at the ceiling until he fell asleep again.

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Sam felt like he was underwater, his chest hurt and his legs and arms felt heavy. He struggled to move, to swim to the surface of the water but he was so tired and he started to sink.

Dean saw Sam twitching and moaning. He pulled back his blanket, swung his legs off the bed, grabbed his IV stand and shuffled unsteadily over to his brother's bed. He brushed Sam's sweat soaked bangs off his forehead, "Sammy you're safe…relax, you're safe. Gordon's dead Sammy…he can't hurt you anymore." Sam slowly opened his eyes, sliding them around until he saw Dean.

"Dean?" his voice was muffled from an oxygen mask.

"Hey kiddo." Sam reached up to remove the oxygen mask but Dean stopped him. "No Sam, leave it alone. It's helping you breathe." Sam squeezed Dean's hand. "No chick flick moments Francis," Dean said smiling.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine Sam."

Bobby walked into the room carrying two cups of coffee, "how are you boys doing?" he asked seeing that Sam was awake.

"Good," they replied at the same time.

"Did Dean tell you about Gordon, Bobby?"

"Yeah Sam he did. Good riddance I say." He placed one of the coffees on the table next to Sam's bed and pushed a chair behind Dean. "Sit before you pass out again Dean because I'm not dropping my coffee to save your ass," he said while pulling up a chair of his own. Dean laughed as he sat down and sipped his coffee.

"Dean, I took Gordon's cell phone. We need to check the call history to see if he contacted Hendrickson."

"The phone's smashed Sam," Bobby replied, "there's no way to tell if he called Hendrickson or not but my bet is he didn't." Dean and Sam started to protest and Bobby held up his hand, "just hear me out boys. I asked Joshua look into Gordon's recent activities. Turns out he escaped from the Tippecanoe County Jail and an Arrest Warrant had been issued. Since his escape he's been staying under law enforcement's radar so I truly doubt he would call the FBI."

Dean and Sam stared at each other. "We could still go to Yemen," Sam said before yawning and rubbing his eyes.

"If you can outfit the Impala with water wings Sam, I'll consider it," Dean replied, smiling broadly.

"Yemen? You boys don't want to go to Yemen. Now Aruba or the Virgin Islands, those would be the places to go. Sunshine, bikinis, sand and surf," Bobby suggested, "I know this pilot who owes me a favor, so maybe…" Feeling safe for the first time in a long time, Sam slid farther down under his covers and fell asleep listening to Dean and Bobby laugh and compare vacation destinations.

_**FIN**_


	9. Chapter 9

_Because of the insanity known as the Sturgis Rally started Sunday, kill me now…please, I've decided to add this silly little epilogue. After the boys' run in with Gordon, Bobby would've insisted on them recuperating at his place and after watching 'Tall Tales' on SN, I'm certain Sam and Dean would have driven Bobby up the wall within a week._

**Hunted Again - Epilogue**

Sam had just started to doze off on the overstuffed couch when Dean came into the room and threw a pillow at him. "Wake up lazy head. Bobby wants to see us."

"About what?" Sam asked yawning and rubbing his eyes.

"Don't know," replied Dean, sticking a chopstick down his cast and scratching another itch.

Sitting up on the couch Sam winced as he gently massaged his stiff knee. "You're going to lose another chopstick inside your cast Dean. Remember what I said last time?"

"I'm not going to lose 'another' chopstick Sam so stop counting the $40 you're going to charge me to pull it out." Dean pushed the chopstick down further into his cast to scratch a particularly bothersome itch and lost his grip on the stick. "Damnit." Sam giggled at his predicament. Dean glared at him, "I'll get it out," but each time he tried to grab it he just managed to push it further down. "I'm not paying you another red cent Sammy."

Grinning, Sam said, "$20's are green Dean. I just wanna see if I can make an even $200 before Thursday."

"Thursday? Why Thursday?"

"Uh, no reason." Sam did his best to look innocent.

"Yeah right. I believe you," Dean replied narrowing his eyes as he glanced up at his brother, trying to figure out what was going on in that geeky head of his.

They both jumped when Bobby hollered from the porch, "boys where are you?"

"Living room!" Dean yelled back.

"I've been waiting for you outside."

"Sorry Bobby," replied Sam, "what did you want?"

"I'm taking you guys on a field trip."

"Field trip? Are you sure? Sam just started to walk without crutches."

Standing up Sam yelled, "Dean I'm not incapacitated!" he started listing over to his right, not putting much weight on his knee. Dean put out his hand and braced Sam when he started listing to far over. "Stop it!" he said swatting Dean's hand away.

"BOYS!" Dean and Sam looked at Bobby. "Sam where's your knee brace?" Sam pointed at a spot between the couch and a recliner. "Dean give Sam his brace. I expect to see you two next to the Impala in 10 minutes," Bobby ordered before leaving the living room and going outside onto the porch. Bobby shook his head, the boys were going insane after being cooped up in his house for the last 2-½ weeks recuperating and they were determined to take him with them. Sam had been given crutches when he left the Clinic in Missoula but using them pulled at his bullet wounds. So he hadn't gone farther outside than the porch and Dean didn't want to loose sight of his little brother so he hadn't gone very far from the house either. But now Sam was using the knee brace and he was getting those boys out of his house for a few hours before he tied them down, dumped several buckets of holy water on their heads and performed an exorcism on them. He looked up when the screen door screeched open and watched as the boys walked out of the house.

Dean hovered close to Sam, keeping an eye on his brother's limping form. "You should have taken two pain pills Sam."

"Dean, one's enough to take the edge off. And stop hovering," he replied, "or I'll tell Bobby about that science experiment you have going on under your bed."

"That isn't a science experiment…oh, hey Bobby. Thought you said to meet you by the Impala." Dean grinned as he tried to veer the conversation away from what was under his bed.

"No, I said I wanted to see you two next to the Impala." Bobby held his hand out, "keys." Dean and Sam stared at him in confusion. "Do you two know where we are going?"

"No," they replied together.

"Than I'm driving."

"Bobby…"

"I'm driving Dean, so either get in or stay here," replied Bobby taking the keys from Dean's hand. He walked over to the Impala and opened the driver's door. Sam looked at Dean, shrugged his shoulders and followed Bobby to the car. He climbed into the back seat, closed the door, stretched out his leg and leaned back against the door frame. Bobby stood with one leg in the car, "you coming?" Dean shook his head and mumbled to himself as he walked to his car and got into the passenger seat. Bobby sat down, closed his door and started the engine. "Dean I've driven the Impala with your Daddy unconscious and bleeding in the backseat, down Lombard Street in San Fran while being chased by the cops and managed not to scratch the paint. So stop glaring at me."

"Where are we going Bobby," asked Sam as they drove down the driveway.

"Do you hear that droning noise?"

Dean cocked his head, "yeah. What is that?"

"Motorcycles. Fifty thousand motorcycles."

"Going where?" asked Dean.

"To the 67th Annual Sturgis Motorcycle Rally. Bikers from all over the US, Canada, Mexico and the World in general descend on Sturgis this week."

Sam watched as a group of bikers flying Australian and Danish flags passed them before they merged on to eastbound I-90. "Why?"

"For the races, the concerts out at the Chip, touring the Hills and checking out the other bikes. Personally, I go to check out the biker chicks."

Dean perked up, "biker chicks?" Sam giggled. Dean turned around, "the peanut gallery can just keep his mouth shut."

Grinning, Sam mouthed, "who me?"

"Okay boys," laughed Bobby, "Main Street is closed to four wheeled traffic so I'm parking the Impala at my friend's house, then we'll walk."

"Bobby," Dean gestured behind him, "Sam…knee."

"Dean, stop it."

"We're a block off Main, Dean. Sam will be fine," replied Bobby, pulling into a driveway and stopping the car. Getting out Bobby continued, "I'm going inside to talk to Jorge for a minute. You boys get walking that way and I'll catch up to you."

Sam rubbed his knee after getting out of the Impala. "Ready to go Dean?"

"Yeah, sure," he replied, waving at Bobby before they started walking down the street. "Sounds like a bunch of angry bees," Dean commented as they got closer to Main Street.

"Yep," answered Sam. They both stopped short as they rounded the corner and were confronted with a sea of people and motorcycles. "Holy crap," Sam said in awe. Dean whistled as a tall, red headed woman walked past them wearing black leather pants and a chain maille halter top.

She turned, smiled and whistled back, "catch you later guys." Winking, she turned and continued on her way.

Dean walked backwards so he could watch the woman walk down the sidewalk. "Watch it Dean! You almost stepped on that guy's dog," Sam warned as jerked his brother away from a large man leading a tiny Chihuahua wearing a leather vest. "Sorry," he said to the man.

"It's alright dude, Jack can take care of himself. Just keep your buddy away from the Coydog down the street, he bites." Sam nodded and dragged Dean away from the man and dog.

Dean soon stopped walking and grew quiet. "Dean are you alright?" asked Sam.

"Huh, what?"

"Your eyes are about to fall out of your head."

Dean simply pointed out into the street. Looking where Dean was pointing, Sam's eyes and practically every man's and a few women's eyes on the street almost popped out as a woman wearing only a black strap went by on the back of a Harley-Davidson. "Holy shi…" Dean murmured.

"Hope she's wearing sunscreen."

"Sam! You see a gorgeous woman wearing only a small strip of clothe covering her…her…," he gestured up and down, "and the only thing you say is 'I hope she's wearing sunscreen'?"

Sam smirked, "would you prefer 'the road rash is going to be painful'?"

"I don't know you. There's no way we can be related," Dean said as he walked away from Sam.

Sam laughed as he caught up with his brother. They continued down the street trying not to bump into people on the overloaded sidewalks and pointing out the different women they saw, most of them not wearing much more than a bandana halter top and Daisy Duke's or leather pants.

Dean noticed that Sam's limp had become more pronounced as they got to the end of the street. "Hungry Sam? I could do with a bite and a beer," he asked stopping in front of a sign advertising Indian tacos, pulled pork or beef sandwiches and buffalo burgers.

"Sure. But no beer, iced tea," he replied sitting down at an open table. He put his leg up on a chair and rubbed his knee. He thought, "_maybe I should have taken two pills,_" Sam shook his head, "_no, two make me loopier than…_" His thoughts were interrupted when Dean came back to the table with their food and drinks. He handed Sam a small bag of ice.

"For your knee." When Sam looked at him quizzically after placing the ice on his knee, Dean explained further, "Cheyenne was kind enough to give it to me when I told her about your injury."

"Which one's Cheyenne?" Sam asked looking over at the food booth.

"The dark haired girl wearing the red bandana." Sam spotted her, smiled and nodded his head. She grinned back.

"Do I even want to ask what you told her?" he asked taking a big bite of burger.

Dean answered with a muffled, "no," as he hungrily stuffed his burger into his mouth. Bobby found them as they were finishing their food. "Are you hungry Bobby? We can wait," offered Dean.

"I'm fine Dean. You boys ready to continue?"

"Yep," replied Sam standing up. Dean dumped their garbage then they crossed the street to walk up the other side of Main Street.

"Hey sugar. Wanna buy a t-shirt?" a young woman called out to Dean. Sam and Bobby looked through some of the shirts while Dean chatted with the woman. Sam selected a couple of shirts and brought them over to where Dean was standing. "Find something you like sweetie?" she asked Sam. Smiling broadly at the woman Sam nodded and handed over the shirts.

"What did you find Sam?" Dean asked looking curiously through the shirts as the saleswoman rang up the sale. He stared at the picture of an old rancher proclaiming 'Ma, I'm riding the Hog. Now what?' while sitting on the back of a large hog wallowing in a mud hole. Dean practically grabbed the shirt out of the woman's hands and exclaimed, "no way in hell are you buying this one Sammy."

"Yes, I am Dean," he replied handing his money over and waiting for his change. "My money, my choice," Sam said smirking at his brother.

"No way am I wearing that shirt."

"Good, cause it isn't for you. I'm buying it for Joshua…he'll get a kick out of it."

Bobby laughed, "kind of looks like Joshua…on a good day."

Sam held up a black t-shirt that had a picture of a woman with a shotgun slung over her shoulder and a wide-eyed man holding a broken bottle with 'Girls Gone Wild - South Dakota style' printed on the back, "this one's for Ellen," he said grinning.

Shaking his head, Bobby slapped Dean on the back, "come on boys. Let's keep moving."

Dean stalked off while Sam received his change. Smiling seductively she said, "here's my number sugar. You and your friend should give me a call. I'll show you two how to ride a Harley."

Startled, Sam stammered, "sure…thanks," before hurrying off to catch up with Dean and Bobby.

Seeing Sam's face Dean joked, "what's wrong Sammy? She give you her phone number?"

"Actually she did." Dean stopped and stared open mouthed at his brother. Sam continued, "but she also included you in her invitation to 'ride a Harley'."

"A Harley, huh?" Dean caught the woman's eye and gave her a dazzling smile before slapping Sam on the back and continuing on their way. They were half way down Main Street when Sam stopped suddenly. Dean wasn't paying attention and walked right into Sam, almost knocking him onto the ground. "Sam!"

Barely paying attention to his brother he mumbled, "sorry Dean," and walked over to an old motorcycle. "Wow."

Dean stepped over to were Sam was standing, "okay it's an old motorcycle," he said confused.

"Dean it's an Indian," he replied in awe.

"An Indian?"

"Yeah, they revolutionized the motorcycle industry. This machine is older than your Impala."

An old man walked over to Sam, Dean and Bobby. "Excuse me, did you say he owned an Impala?"

"Yes Sir," replied Sam, "a 1967."

The man whistled, "good year." He turned to the motorcycle, "this is a 1936 Indian Sport Scout," he lovingly stroked the seat, "she and I have seen more of North America in our time than you boys probably ever will."

Bobby stepped forward and slapped the man on the back, "Jorge, we were supposed to meet at your house."

"Something came up Bob," he watched as Sam walked around admiring the bike. "Gordon Walker is missing. Jackson found his truck abandoned up in northwestern Montana. Did he contact you? Do you know what he was hunting?"

Dean watched Sam stiffen when Jorge mentioned Gordon. He went and stood next to his brother, "hey Sammy, how about you explain to me how you know what an Indian motorcycle is but you can't tell a spark plug from a carburetor," he said slapping Sam on the shoulder. Dean nodded to Bobby and lead his brother away.

Dean heard Bobby say, "something he shouldn't have been…" before his voice was swallowed up by the chaos of the Rally.

"It's okay Sam…"

Sam interrupted in a quiet voice, "Dean if the other hunters find out what happened to Gordon. They'll come after us."

"Sammy, remember what I told you back in Mandan?"

"Never eat yellow snow."

"No…I didn't…yellow…what?" sputtered Dean. "No Sam, I told you that no one would hurt you while I was around."

"Well yeah, I sort of recall you saying that but I swear you also said to never eat yellow snow and…" he glanced dejectedly at the ground then back up at his brother, "never shove a chopstick down my cast," he added grinning.

Dean couldn't stop himself from smiling, "Sammy."

"Hey Dean, is that a chopstick or are you just glad to see me?"

_**FIN**_

_The Chip - the Buffalo Chip Campground._

_The Hills - the Black Hills National Forest._

_The one black strap lady - saw her a couple of years ago and that is all she was wearing - one long strap that went around the back of her neck down her front, between her legs and back up like thong underwear and tied around her waist somehow. The only thing I could think of besides the sunscreen and road rash stuff was 'how long before the cops pull them over for indecent exposure &/or making a public nuisance?'._

_Daisy Duke's - extremely short shorts made by and worn by Catherine Bach in the 'Dukes of Hazard' TV show._


End file.
